Friday, 27 February 1987: Contemplating Life at a Black Homeland University

May 1987, University of Botswana, Environmental Science computer room

My main purpose for being in Empangeni was to visit another of Helize’s innumerable contacts.  His name was Etienne, and he was a colleague of hers – an Afrikaans professor at the University of Zululand.  I found the campus, located about 20 km south of Empangeni on the N2 highway.  Etienne was in his office and I had a short chat with him and Jeanette, one of his colleagues.  She had once taught at the University of the North in the Venda homeland in northern Transvaal province.  Jeanette confirmed my suspicions that it is a grim place to work or be a student as reported in my 3 October 1986 story and based on my very brief stop there.  As with most of the black homeland universities, many of the staff members are Afrikaners, and not very enlightened ones at that. 

Modern campus buildings at the University of Zululand.

 

Etienne and Jeanette accompanied me to the Geography Department where I was introduced to Mr. Swart, one of the lecturers.  He was probably mid-40s and impressed me as a straight-laced, humorless type although he was polite.  I met another Afrikaner on the department’s staff who seemed more relaxed.  They introduced me to Mr. Magi, the department chair.  He was a cordial black chap who had received his master’s degree from the University of Oregon.  Magi’s research interests were in recreation, so we had a few things to talk about (my M.A. thesis in the early 1970s dealt with winter recreation conflicts in western Montana).  Recently, he has been studying black perceptions and utilization of recreational facilities.  He has found that when blacks become more educated and middle class, they tend to participate in much the same sorts of recreation as their white counterparts. 

These three gentlemen hit me with an interesting proposition.  There was a position open at the Durban campus of University of Zululand, and they needed a generalist like me with a masters who could teach a variety of courses.  I was intrigued but told them I was reasonably certain of getting a two-year contract to stay on at the University of Botswana.  I didn’t mention my reservations about working in South Africa.

There were certainly things to be said in favor of taking such a job.  It would give me an opportunity to actually work and live in South Africa.  That would eventually make me much more qualified as a South African “expert”.  I would be making a contribution to the education of the eventual and inevitable leaders of South Africa.  Of the four provinces of South Africa, Natal was the most socially progressive.  Of all the South African black “homelands”, Kwa Zulu (Zululand), was the least cooperative with Pretoria.  Chief Buthelezi of the Zulu people was an outspoken opponent of apartheid and, in my opinion, no Quisling unlike most other black homeland leaders.  And, as difficult as it is for me to find a job in my field, this one would be right up my alley.

The factors against accepting this job were more compelling.  The most important was that South Africa’s social climate basically depressed me.  White South Africans and their system made me feel very uncomfortable.  Even were I to surround myself with liberal friends, I would find it very hard to stomach the realities of life there.  It is bad enough just travelling around the country.  There were other considerations as well.  By working at a segregated university, I would, in effect, be accepting the apartheid system and earning a living from it.  Where would I stand if the violence and repression heated up even more?  There was a good chance I’d wind up in detention or be deported for getting involved in the liberation movement at some level.  On the other hand, what if I became seduced by the life of white privilege?  Either way, it was a no-win situation.  Plus, I could be blackballed from the academic community in much of the rest of the world.  My credibility as a free-lance journalist, already shaken by my association with SATOUR (the South African Tourist Bureau), would be destroyed.

Ray, the department’s technician, took me over to his home for tea.  He was a short, friendly Indian fellow and lived in a very nice flat on the campus.  Ray said that white staff members were also entitled to housing on campus but chose to live elsewhere.  They were afraid of the personal consequences of black student riots which had occurred here, just as at all the other homeland universities.  I thought of the easy time I had living among black students at UB and reminded myself that the situation was different here.

We took a walk around the campus.  It was modern with lush, green vegetation.  A new library was under construction.  All in all, a pleasant, peaceful environment.  However, Ray pointed out that the Kwa Zulu police had frequently come onto the campus to forcefully put down even peaceful demonstrations. 

The next day, I commented to Helize that I wished the “revolution” would hurry up and get over with so I could work at this university or at another homeland campus.  Obviously, I could be long past retirement age before that happens.  But realistically, I just can't imagine being happy in South Africa, revolution or not.

  

My return route from Empangeni to Durban with a couple of side trips.

 

The geographers suggested I visit the harbor at Richards Bay, 20 km east of Empangeni on the Indian Ocean.  There was a viewpoint where I would be able to get some good photos of the coal loading facilities.  I took their advice.  While there, I ran into a young Australian couple who had been touring South Africa.  They didn’t think it was nearly as bad as the press back home made it out to be but it appeared they were following a typical tourist itinerary.

Richards Bay, Natal:  Beach and breakwater at the harbor entrance.

 

After lunch, it was time to return to Durban as Helize had promised to take me to a birthday party if I got back in time.  I took a circular route through Eshowe and the hilly sugar cane country before rejoining the N2 highway.  Before heading to Durban, I took one more detour, this time down a dirt road to the mouth of the Tugela River.  This river had been the traditional boundary between British Natal and Zululand.  I don’t know what I expected to find there.  What I did find was amazing.

 

Nkwalini, Natal.  Highway R34 winds over an escarpment a few miles inland from the Indian Ocean. 

 

The Tugela is a wide, silt-laden river which deposits tons of sediment where it flows into the Indian Ocean.  A northeastern ocean current carries the sediment along the beach resulting in ugly muddy-brown waves which look as if they contain raw sewage.  But immediately southwest of the river mouth, the Indian Ocean waters are crystal blue-green with beautiful white caps crashing on the shore.

 

In contrast with distant white caps, ugly “mud caps” are clogged with sediment around the mouth of the Tugela River where it empties into the Indian Ocean.

 

When I finally arrived at Helize’s flat, there was a note on the door explaining where to find the key because she had gone for a run to lift her spirits.  Before she got back, I was joined by Janet, a tall, pretty blonde in her early 20s.  She had been an Afrikaans student under Helize at the University of Natal.  They had become friends, and Janet was going to go with us to the party.  I learned that she was an avid reader, but felt intellectually limited by the exorbitant prices of imported books in South Africa. 

The party was for Jan, a 30ish Afrikaner bachelor who lived in a tiny high-rise flat near the beach.  The party crowd wasn’t very stimulating, and we bowed out for dinner after a couple drinks.  We drank a bunch of wine with dinner and then went to a nightclub which featured a jazzy rock band.  I was smashed on my arse after one more drink and got obnoxious.  As I recall, I was pontificating to someone in our group about the advantages of remaining childless.